


Beginnings

by bronzerook



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzerook/pseuds/bronzerook
Summary: In the midst of joy and celebration, Sansa can’t help but feel the pains of her past. Can Stannis manage to comfort her?





	Beginnings

As a child, Sansa loved the feasts the Starks held to mark the turning of the new year. The weeks leading up to it saw Winterfell caught up in a whirlwind of activity as family and servants alike prepared to open the great castle to their guests. Every house in the North that was pledged to House Stark was invited and while most would arrive the day before the feast and leave a few days after, some would stay a full moon’s turn.

Young Sansa once marveled how the heavy tables in the Great Hall did not buckle under the weight of all the food and drink. Rounds of cheese, dried apples, and barrels of ale were brought up from the cellars. Loaf after loaf of fresh bread was baked, along with cakes of all kinds. Great pans of potatoes and other vegetables were roasted and hunters were sent out to bring back fresh venison to go along with roasted suckling pigs and chickens. Fresh fruit was brought in from the glass gardens and even casks of wine from the arbor were made ready for guests who preferred its sweet taste to the strong and bitter ale of the North.

And of course, the visiting lords and ladies didn’t come empty handed. The Manderlys always brought eels and oysters packed in ice. Somehow the Mormonts always had jars of the finest honey and the Karstarks would bring sweet syrup gathered from the trees around their hold. The Umbers took great pride in their dark ale and brought a wagon full of it, but Sansa didn’t even like Winterfell’s ale, much less their strong brew.

But perhaps Sansa’s favorite part of the Turning Feast was the music and dancing. It was the one time her lord father was sure to send for musicians and a bard and if she could, Sansa would have begged them to stay and never leave.

Before the start of each feast, the current lord of Winterfell and his heir would leave gifts under the heart tree. The loaves of fresh bread and jugs of ale were offerings to thank the Old Gods for watching over the North and her people for another year and to ask their mercy for the new year to come. Sansa remembered Robb, Jon, and Arya all wanting to sneak back into the godswood in hopes of seeing the Old Gods come for their gifts but none had ever actually done it. At least if they had, they’d never told her.

It was also said that couples who wed under the heart tree on the night of the changing of the year would be blessed with long lives and many healthy children and once Sansa herself had dreamed of marrying a handsome husband on such a night.

But all that seemed a lifetime ago and much had changed since then. Her family was gone. Winterfell had been burned and sacked and was only just now being rebuilt. The North had suffered the loss of so many at the hands of war and treachery.

Tonight was to be the first Turning Feast to be held since Eddard Stark went south to his death. Sansa was now the head Stark of Winterfell so it would be her duty to leave the gifts for the Old Gods. She had no heir as of yet so it was her husband who stood stiffly at her side. Sansa didn’t think King Stannis believed in any gods, old or new or made of fire, but he did not complain when she’d asked it of him. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure she believed in any gods, either. Not anymore.

But before there could be an offering, there was to be a wedding. One of Stannis’ knights was to wed Lady Jonelle Cerwyn. Sansa suspected the bride had never thought to wed but seemed happy enough with the match. Like Sansa, she also shouldered the responsibility to make sure her family line carried on.

Similar to her own wedding scarcely two moons before, the ceremony was brief and in the fashion of their ancestors. Unlike her wedding, though, the guests all seemed truly happy for the couple. Many northern lords resented following a southron king and saw it as giving away the independence her brother Robb had fought for. And Stannis’ own men were no less skeptical, wary of these stern northmen and a queen who had been first a Lannister bride and then a mockingbird’s pawn. But it was done. They had said the vows and consummated the marriage. Sansa was a maiden no more, but a wife and a queen.

A queen who had just slipped away from her own feast. The music, the laughter, all the sounds that had once made her younger self so happy now felt like a thousand bells clanging in her head and tears welled up in her eyes. She had to escape the noise and the heat or else run screaming from the hall. And queens did not have that luxury.

She’d lost track of how long she’d stood on the castle walls looking out into nothing but darkness, hoping the cold air and gently falling snow would somehow bring her peace. Guards kept a respectful distance and though she at first tried to urge them back into the warmth and merriment, they refused to leave their queen. She half hoped and half dreaded that her lord husband might come to her but wherever her king was, he was not by her side.

XxX

Stannis was just about to go and search for his wife when he heard the rustle of her skirts enter the room and breathed a sigh of relief.

 _Finally_.

It was late and the fire the servants had left was burning low now. The last he’d seen of her was when she slipped out the door towards the end of the feast. Something he wanted to do himself, but Davos insisted that he stay until the end. He was the King, after all.

He was just relieved she was back. She was safe, and no matter how he hated to admit it, Stannis slept better with her warm body next to him. But even with her there, the nightmares would still find their way in occasionally, haunting him until he jolted awake. Half of the time he would not be able to go back to sleep and if he did, memories of the past would return to haunt his dreams.

Stannis could not deny that sharing a bed with Sansa was a comfort, even if he resented needing her for something so simple as sleeping. And he would be a liar if he claimed not to enjoy watching her take down her hair each night and brush it until it gleamed in the candlelight.

He’d decided not to say anything about her leaving the feast, hoping she would come to bed and they could both get some much needed sleep. The feast may have been rather meager compared to those of the past, but it had still required weeks of work and preparation to make happen and he was aware his queen had shouldered most of the responsibility. She was good at things like that, dealing with people and making them happy. She might even be better at it than Davos.

Just when he’d turned over in hopes of drifting off, he heard it; her soft sniffling. She was trying to keep it quiet, he could tell.

 _Oh no_.

A month ago the mere sound of sniffling would have annoyed him, and he would have tersely asked her what was wrong. But in that month of sharing a bed and getting to know his wife, he’d found he hated the idea of her being in pain or distress. He wanted to help her now but he had no idea how to go about it. Dealing with emotions and feelings made him uncomfortable, especially with women. Especially with young, beautiful, women who were far too good for him. He felt as useless as a wet rag.

 _Ugh_.

If he attempted to say anything, he ran the risk of making whatever it was that was bothering her worse. So perhaps he would be acting in both their best interests to feign sleep and give her privacy.

But it was not to be.

Stannis almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Sansa slide her arm around his waist and press herself against his back. This was completely unexpected. She had never made any such move towards his person before and Stannis had no idea what had prompted such behavior now.

“What’s wrong?” he blurted out, though he did make an effort to keep his voice low and to sound as least threatening as possible.

She didn’t answer, only sniffled again, right by his ear. He turned to her over his shoulder and to his alarm saw tears streaming down her face.

“Sansa” he whispered, carefully turning himself over to face her.

She bit her lip, trying to keep it from quivering like a child and wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve before meeting his concerned eyes.

In truth, all Sansa wanted was non-threatening human contact. She would have been perfectly content for him to just lie there. Despite having been married before, she knew Stannis wasn’t comfortable with touches or signs of affection. She thought this time would be no different. But now he was looking at her, asking her what was wrong.

“The feast...the wedding ...they just reminded me...” she trailed off, the words dying in her throat. She took a shaky breath, not really knowing what to say. “It’s just weddings are not something...” she halted again and tried to swallow but the hard lump forming made it difficult and she let out a sad sigh. “I have terrible memories associated with weddings” she finally managed to say.

Stannis clenched his jaw. “You regret having married me.” He meant it to be a question but it came out more as an accusation.

Sansa stared at him through watery eyes. “What? No, no, that’s not it,” she said after a moment, shaking her head. “That’s not it at all. Our wedding was perhaps the one exception.”

And that was true. There were no horrible memories attached to their marriage. Instead of a complete nightmare, it was a relief. Stannis had been gentle with her on their wedding night and every time since. He was kind and treated her with respect. Her one complaint might be that he kept his distance and didn’t seem interested in talking, at least until now.

“My first wedding….to Tyrion….was humiliating and cruel. The traitor’s daughter and the imp. They wanted to shame us both and you can imagine the kinds of things Joffrey said and did.”

 _Oh_.

“And then ...Mother and Robb. They were slaughtered at my uncle’s wedding. I still have nightmares about what their last moments must have been like. And even though I hated Joffrey for all he had done to me and my family, it was still so horrible to watch him choke to death at his own wedding. I can still close my eyes and see him clawing at this throat as blood spilled from his nose and eyes and Cersei held him in her arms and screamed.”

Stannis didn’t know what to say so he just listened, again reminded of all that she’d been through. It was appalling, and she deserved better than to end up tied to him, a man who did not even know how to comfort his own wife.

“...They...they call it the Red Wedding and say the Freys slit my mother’s throat and threw her naked into the river. And my brother...his head……”

“Shhh...hush now,” Stannis tried to say in a soothing tone. He awkwardly reached out to touch her shoulder, moving it in what he could only hope was a comforting manner. It wasn’t. Not really.

But still Sansa tried to smile for him, and that only made him feel more of a failure. Suddenly he remembered being a small child and running to his mother for comfort when Robert had been cruel to him.

 _You idiot_ , Stannis thought to himself. But another part of him, a part that sounded suspiciously like Davos, said _what do you have to lose_?

“Come here” he whispered.

Surprised at his unusual display of tenderness, Sansa obeyed. She tentatively inched closer and let him pull her to his chest.

His touch made her heart clench. This time he wasn’t rigid. He wasn’t stiff and awkward about it. Instead he was gentle and warm and surprisingly comfortable; the feeling of his arms heavy around her made her cry again and she clung to him, burying her face in his shirt.

For the life of him, Stannis did not know what to do next. It was as if his mind and body had a will of their own and were determined not to let him fail at this.

“You’ll be alright” he ended up saying, his stubbled cheek scratching against the side of her head as he spoke.

He held her until her tears finally stopped and she calmed. Only the occasional shaky breath and sniffle remained and Stannis wasn’t sure she was even still awake.

“Thank you” Sansa whispered.

He hummed in response, his voice rumbling in his chest beneath her ear and to her utter amazement and happy surprise, he kissed her forehead.

For the first time in a long time, Sansa felt her insides flutter with something besides dread or grief. Glancing up at Stannis, she saw an expression on his face she’d never seen before. _He cares for me. He wants to make this work between us_.

The realization stunned her. With a shaking hand, Sansa reached up to her lord husband’s jaw to coax his head closer. She could feel his eyes studying her, could feel his warm breath, and finally the soft press of his lips against hers. His scruff was rough against her skin, but she didn’t mind. He was warm and gentle. Loving.

It wasn’t the chaste kiss that marked their wedding ceremony, or the apologetic, slightly awkward ones he gave her later that night in bed. This was completely new and Sansa was experiencing things she’d never felt before. After a while he pulled back to look into her eyes and she could only smile back at him.

“Sleep now” he whispered, returning her smile with a slight upturn at one side of his mouth. She nodded and then snuggled in next to him once more.

“Goodnight, Stannis” she whispered, draping her arm over his waist.

“Goodnight” he responded, pulling the furs up around her and rested his head against hers.

His steady breathing lulled Sansa to sleep and the next thing she knew, the sun was rising. A new day was beginning. And she couldn’t help but think a new chapter in her life with Stannis was beginning, too. For the first time in what felt like an age of the world, Queen Sansa Baratheon was happy. And that was worth celebrating.


End file.
